


unreverent knees

by sleepymoon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic Revealed, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymoon/pseuds/sleepymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the day of Merlin's execution doesn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unreverent knees

Merlin can't breathe.

His lungs are burning, his throat constricting painfully, his fingers closed in fists so tight they're shaking with the force of it.

His entire world has been reduced to fire and ashes, the smoke lifting a wall so high that he can barely see what's happening past the thick veil of it. He feels tears rolling down his cheeks, dripping from his chin, but he's only marginally aware that he's crying. He tries to swallow, listening to his heart beating a deadly song in his chest. He prays. He shouts. He curses. But it's only when he feels sharp claws closing on his shoulders that he finally starts screaming.

 

The fire has died down, the smoke slowly dispersing in the air, thick ribbons of it crawling upwards, revealing to the eyes of the crowd the pyre where the young warlock was supposed to die. Merlin cradles Aithusa's head in his hand, caressing the rugged skin. It feels strangely soft under his fingers, and they leave a black, quivering trail in their wake. The dragon lifts his pale neck, spreading his white, translucent wings with a high-pitched wail that echoes in the stunned silence descended upon the yard. The warlock stands up on shaky legs, naked, covered in ashes, his body reddened and bruised. And yet he's still alive, very much so, against all odds. For the first time in many years, Merlin is almost distressingly aware of the magic crawling and creeping beneath his skin, growling like a caged beast, begging to be granted his long-awaited freedom.

'You let me burn,' he whispers, and there is a sort of distorted awe in his voice.

The king raises as well, the gold of his crown catching the light of the morning sun; it almost hurts to look at it.

Aithusa lets out another squeal, shifting restlessly on his shoulder. Merlin looks at Arthur, looks at his beloved king, his liege, his destiny.

'You let me burn,' he repeats, laughing 'You stood there on your stupid throne, wearing your stupid crown, and you let me burn.'

Arthur doesn't utter a single word, he just stares right back at Merlin, his eyes wild and his mouth stretched in a silent, trembling line.

'I loved you, you know,' Merlin smiles weakly 'So very much.'

The silence is deafening, and even from afar Merlin can see the king's eyes turning soft and desperate all at once. Aithusa squeals for the third time as the warlock slowly descends the pyre, and the crowd parts silently to let him pass. With every step he takes, the mad, impossible weight of his love is lifted inch by inch from his shoulders, leaving him breathless. He doesn't belong at Arthur's side anymore.

The king finally starts shouting something behind him, but he doesn't hear a single thing.

And that's when Merlin starts breathing again.

 

 

 

*

'Please. Merlin, please. Merlin. Don't lea- MERLIN, PLEASE.'

**Author's Note:**

> The title is shamelessly stolen from _Sir Thomas More_.
> 
> Because ever since I saw Game of Thrones, _that_ scene has been stuck in my head.


End file.
